


stamen

by SecretReyloTrash (BadOldWest)



Series: fever-verse [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Just Really Wants To Be A Dad, Breeding Kink, Cowgirl, Dirty Talk, Disaster Switches, Dubious Consent, Established Occasional Hookup Relationship, F/M, Fever-Verse, Impregnation Kink, Missionary, No Resulting Pregnancy, Or At Least a Himbo House-Husband, Outdoor Sex, PWP, Pining, Rey Takes Preventative Measures Afterwards Offscreen or Whatever, Semi-Clothed Sex, Sex Pollen, Smut, Talking About Babies, They Just Think It’s Hot While on Sex Pollen, Unsafe Sex, Your Typical Sex Pollen Trope Consent Issues, aphrodisiac, pregnancy mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23729182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadOldWest/pseuds/SecretReyloTrash
Summary: “The spikelets of the flower are fairly harmless: centuries ago they were stewed in a broth to create a potent tonic—”Botany is not a subject he ever pursued with any passion. The last grasps of his education falter on his lips. He recites them anyway, rote and toneless, to ground himself.“—in an ancient ritual said to renew the vigor of entire armies.”sex pollen fic for @jeenonamit's sex pollen event
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: fever-verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1339438
Comments: 20
Kudos: 313
Collections: Sex Pollen to the Rescue





	stamen

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! This is part four of the Fever-Verse! You do not need to have read parts 1-3 of the Fever-Verse to follow it, or any story in the series for the matter, which are all one shots that tend to tell you everything you need to know about the story in whichever order you read them. 
> 
> If you are following the Fever-Verse, this is set before part three '(never know) how much i care' but is also more of an aside of the plot for the sex pollen prompt and thus doesn't follow the same naming convention for the title. 
> 
> Please mind the tags: this is sex pollen so any dubiousness is trope-convention and...it's tagged.

_“The spikelets of the flower are fairly harmless: centuries ago they were stewed in a broth to create a potent tonic—”_

Botany is not a subject he ever pursued with any passion. The last grasps of his education falter on his lips. He recites them anyway, rote and toneless, to ground himself. 

_“—in an ancient ritual said to renew the vigor of entire armies.”_

Rey is not at all a focused student of the subject in the moment. That just can’t be helped in this setting. It’s his own lesson he’s worried about.

He tears the flimsy mask off of her face: after she first swooned from the insufficiency of the protection, it was useless now. Maybe it kept sand out of her nose in a desert: but this dust is permeating with more determination. 

The Scavenger’s lips are flushed red when her mouth is freed from the sand-colored mask. She licks them as if bone-dry. But there’s a puddle of drool collecting on the tip of her tongue. Her mouth is flooding with saliva. With a wince he turns her head to one side so it doesn’t choke her and runs down her cheek from her gaping mouth. 

He can’t feel her through the bond. Or what he feels exactly is too overwhelming. It’s humming and fuzzy and all-encompassing. Even brushing the state of her mind has his blood pounding. 

He tries not to panic. She’s merely stunned. It’ll phase into some less (and potentially more) dangerous soon.

“The pollen is more dangerous…” he continues, sitting back on his knees and watching with dread as Rey’s whole body shudders with bare-lunged exposure to the air. He hadn’t wanted to take the mask off: but it was likely to choke her at a certain point. “The salverform shape of the flowers mean they drift down and filter into the air even if undisturbed. It symbiotically alters the environment around them, often shaping it into lush plant life and very—little—animal presence.”

She is all arching flesh in the nest of _lush plant life._

He watches her blink up at him: assessing. Is his mask more fearsome to her when she is so dewy and raw and human beneath it? _He_ feels more monstrous.

Ironically it is the only tether to human reason between the two of them.

Something in her flickers like it’s brought back to life. The paralyzing effects of the pollen seem to have reversed and she moves like a growing fire across the ground. Kylo curses under his breath. This phase is harder to contain. He couldn’t do anything but recite horticultural facts between clenched teeth only moments ago, and he wasted precious time to just get her back to the ship so she could clean her lungs in the filtered air. 

He had just been so vindicated by finding her before anyone else had he lost track of precious time. 

The contrast between them has his mouth going dry even in temperature-controlled, perfectly circulated air inside his helmet. She has the raw mist of the planet’s fauna entering her lungs. 

The Scavenger is feral. Biting and clawing. He is civilized. Shielded and restrained. The thought of melting themselves together in this state has him biting his tongue until he tastes blood. 

_Take her to your ship._

He should be better than this. He has not even felt the influence of the pollen and yet he can barely control himself. It wounds him with pity for her, and her blind grasps for him. His temptation cannot be blamed on tricky spores. This is just visual, no taste of smell, and sound. 

Rey writhing. Rey keening. Her skin flushed and her chest heaving and those hips twisting in circles in the dirt.

“Can you hear me?”

She blinks at him, heavy-lidded, and a smile in recognition forms on her lips. 

_“You came for me.”_

This is true. Instead of the requisite troops ordered to follow up on the tip as to her location, the Supreme Leader boarded his shuttle to go alone. This was often whispered about by his men: the missions that were easy enough for new recruits to handle on their own he always claimed for himself and returned empty handed. 

He would need an explanation for this one. One he had not even begun to think up. Perhaps he enjoyed that aspect of being Supreme Leader: he did not need to excuse his failure to capture her, but he certainly would not exude the power of the First Order if he failed and did not have an _explanation._

The ecology of this planet was a net that would easily ensnare the Resistance Jedi. Anyone could have caught her.

That’s not why he laid her in the purple ferns after the pollen took her and now holds his body in a shield over her. 

Rey pants and wriggles in the leaves, reaching for him with grasping hands. Pollen spills in a lilac and silver shimmer across her skin and she actually arches her back and lets a cry rip from her throat. It makes her shiver like ice is being traced along her flushed skin. He barely recognizes her so needy. He’s only seen her reach for him like this before during two chances she gave him that came like one in a thousand. 

And he wasted them.

He can tell in the cast over her eyes: she can only see him for one purpose. 

That of an anatomical requirement.

He could probably make her crawl into a First Order prison cell with the promise of his cock. 

_So could anyone._

“Rey,” he hisses, trying to guide her hands away from his belt.

She looks so happy: sweaty with bliss as if he’s already had her a thousand times. 

She is as beautiful as the face of their maker. He longs to kiss her glowing, wet skin. He’s seeing the delirious pleasure he had damned himself by imaging a thousand times. A thousand ways. 

This is torture. 

“Ben,” her chest shudders with tremors of air, the eaves of her ribs rising and falling with perfect sighs. The look on her face is persuading. He doesn’t have to be afraid. This is _glorious._ “Kiss me.”

He is the only one tying them to sanity. 

He’s not sure he wants it.

Rey lazily slides a hand between her legs and pumps against the flesh with leisurely strokes. He grunts and goes to still her: which feels crueler than anything else, but necessary for his control.

Then he feels her pulling on the force and there’s a click and a hiss and—

“Rey, _no.”_

It’s too late. She opened the lock without lifting a finger through the Force and tugged the whole helmet off his head. His mask falls into her hands. 

The machinations keeping his helmet on his head have opened with her hand. Unfiltered air fills his lungs: sweet and thick with pollen. She drags it off his head as he gasps above her. 

She tosses it aside too quickly for him to grab it: he halts it with a raised hand calling upon the force. Then it drops to the ground yards away with a thud. 

Because he lets it fall. Lowering his hand to her sweaty brow instead of reclaiming the mask and stroking the strands of her hair out of the way.

The airlock that was protecting them both by maintaining his control of the situation is gone. The shield that kept them from pursuing all sorts of bad ideas, or at least kept them at being just mere ideas. 

Terrible, wonderful ideas for the body that now pleaded for his touch.

Now those thoughts were floating dense in the air as the pollen that coated her skin. Her eyelashes. His lips. His lungs. 

Now _he’s_ stunned. 

She could pluck wicked thoughts from his vulnerable mind like fruit from the branches overhead. 

Kylo Ren struggles to gather her up in his shaking arms. Then to rise onto his knees while holding her. This doesn’t work as he planned. He can’t move from this spot, holding her as she nuzzles and sucks at the skin under his jaw. 

“I only have a few minutes to get you to my ship before it takes full effect. The stimulant increases the pulse and then—”

Rey bows up and kisses him. He whines into it, feeling that racing in his chest he had not anticipated to come this quickly. His legs buckle and they are on the ground once again. 

He has to carry her back to the ship. He has to protect her. 

She’s kissing him. That should be indication enough of how _wrong_ this is. That her lips pliant against his and so gentle —it feels like he belongs there— is even being allowed feels like it shouldn’t be happening.

The throbs painfully hard in his trousers. His knees dig into soft earth, the air dewy enough to make it a muddy cradle. There is the give of a plush mattress to it: or maybe that’s his mind rushing to make a cozy lover’s nest out of their wild surroundings. Blood pounds in his groin and thighs. It is like a pull of the force to her body.

“And then what?” she asks greedily. Eyes wild.

He groans and locks his body rigid. They can’t. He can’t.

“And then we _fuck,”_ he finally says with a pained effort, a flush forming on the bridge of his nose, “like it’s the only thing we have left.”

It’s meant as a warning, but instead a keen cry of excitement causes her to glow underneath him. He blinks at her. Why would she cheer and sing to lie with a monster?

She strokes him. The stimulant actually seems to have calmed her more than anything else. Softened. He expected her in a state of fear. Just the pull of the force showing him her insufficient protection to the pollen, wandering the jungle vulnerable and alone.

Her fingers stroke over his face.

“How’d you come to learn so much about this plant?”

Her mouth doesn’t so much as leave his as it does lushly stroke his as she speaks.

It’s a flirt. It’s to tease him as he stutters out about blood pressure and salverform; whatever that used to mean just moments ago. Now it has barely any recognition from him.

He closes his eyes to the flash of blue flowers behind her. She’s flirting, but it’s a reminder he should have known better. Her current... _altered state_...is chemical. His is just visual temptation. If this was a holovid he’d be on his knees on the floor of his chambers fucking his own fist. If she were just a holovid here, in this mud, he’d still probably be doing the same. But the hum of her mind is like an engine running so hard it shakes him. 

“I...studied on my way here.”

Rey moves up him, serpent-like, and nips the slowly-mending rift across his brow where she cut him open with a saber. He blinks and swallows, dumb with shock, as she kisses her way down the ridge where she marked him.

“On your way here to do what?”

His arms tighten around her as the muscles clench up. To protect Rey. To be with Rey.

_Rey._

“I don’t remember.”

“Did you know this would happen?” she laughs, a gorgeous sound that travels up a scale like birdsong, as he frantically lowers her to the ground and plants himself between her legs. They both move automatically. 

“I didn’t think you’d be mine.”

“Hmmm,” she brings her hands up to cup her breasts, playing with them for him from the sly way she occasionally glances up at him to catch him watching. “Then why…?”

He peels apart the wrap that covers the thin layer of her top. He can only get them off her shoulders and free from her arms before she yanks up the shirt underneath without bothering with her belt. The wraps hang around her waist, secured still by the leather, but that doesn’t seem a priority to either party as he folds her back down to the earth and kisses her bare sternum.

“To prevent you from being anyone else’s.”

Rey smirks at him wickedly, understanding immediately the choice that he might be making. If not making in sound mind, then certainly surrendering to.

She takes her breasts in her hands and presses them together as much as she’s able with his face against her breastbone. The modest swells push against his jaw and the effort makes him feel _buried._ He wants to dive deeper and drown in her flesh. With a thankful groan he twists to each curve and presses greedy kisses to them. 

“It’s okay,” she keeps him cradled there even as her tits slip free from her grasp as her hands rest in his hair. Unrestrained, he nuzzles into her breasts and then kisses his way to one of her nipples, “Ben, _please._ Come inside me like it’s all we have left.”

He had the entire galaxy in his hands. But still, this might as well be all he had to lose. 

It’s certainly all he wants.

His lips collect the bud to cradle against his tongue, sucking her while he teases it with the tip. She whimpers and bows into him. This is a much smoother means of communication between the Jedi and the Supreme Leader. They should have tried this _ages_ ago.

When she reaches to touch him again, he takes her hands in his and pins them to the ground.

“Beg,” he orders, despite the muddled sound of his own voice and his questioning of his own authority, “beg me and I’ll do anything you wish.”

He’s forgotten her strength. Those muscular legs close around him like a vice and he hisses. He’s about to take back his condition and beg her for what he can do: but she exhibits her strength in kind. 

“Ben,” she holds his face in her hands and whispers huskily, “I want you to fuck me. I want it so badly I can’t breathe. Don’t tease. Give it to me.”

Control is changed into a vague concept to him. 

“You talk so much,” he licks a stripe across her naked, trembling belly under her breasts, “I wonder what else I can make you say.”

He has revealed so much more than she has, it’s laughable that he teases her like this. 

“You haven’t _shut up._ What will you say for me?”

“That all I want,” he gasps desperately as he feels her so soft and calm underneath him, “is for you to always feel this safe with me.”

Her head tilts to one side. A curious expression flits across her face. 

He dives to mouth at her breasts once more. Sloppy and open-mouthed. Humming against her buzzing skin until he feels her vibrations in his jaw and she feels his radiating down every rib. 

She deserves such soft kisses. This is the nicest place in the world, he’d stay here forever if his damn cock wasn’t about the burst. 

Then he remembers that expression that hooked his focus and glances back up at her. 

“I do feel safe,” she mumbles, touching his hair with one hand as the other shifts to her hips, drawing her pants down her thighs for him to access her body, “like you don’t want to hurt me.”

He fumbles to pull those pants off her legs. Now all she has is her belt and her wraps on her arms and waist. 

He slides his own trousers down over his hips and fists his cock like an offering to a temple altar. Rey stares shamelessly at it. The girl who blinked away and blushed at the sight of his bare chest.

“I don’t.”

If he even remembered himself he’d care deeply about this change.

“Sometimes you do anyway.”

“I know.”

The stimulant has made him a shaking mess. Too vulnerable. Too desperate to be loved. _Please accept me anyway._

Rey lies back with a sigh and opens her legs for him. 

“Don’t hurt me now,” she begs, and then he’s surging forward with a rough thrust before he realizes…

He falls forward with a full-body tremble of guilt and shame. He was too hasty and he acted without thinking and—

_He could have hurt her._

Rey lets out an animalistic cry. He’s entered her body with no resistance. The slick from the pollen’s influence has made a home for him where he will likely be buried a while. Hopefully forever. 

“I’m—so— _Rey_ —didn’t—mean it.”

She’s only shivering beneath him. 

“Ben?”

But his size. It's awkward and unwieldy and it could hurt her if he's not gentle. Loathing foams in his mouth as he searches for any sign of pain.

“Am I hurting you?”

She opens her eyes in surprise.

“No,” she whispers in earnest.

His hips shudder, bringing himself closer into her, and she moans.

_“Maker,”_ she adds as if in awe. Her body seems to be adjusting to the feeling of him inside her. There’s little pulses in her inner muscles while she worries them around his length. IT feels too good to let her stop but also too good for this to last. But they just lie there in the leaves and feel each other in the stillness of their connection, if only for a moment.

He can’t help but smile. She’s looking up at him like this is all that matters. There’s a war going on, between them and around them, and she looks at him like this.

“Is this plant safe?” she adds after a moment.

Then he laughs. _Now_ she would ask. As if they could stop now.

“Relatively.”

She smiles. It’s small but _earned._ From what he’s observed in the time where she could not see him, those are rare.

“How so?”

He bends closer and slowly starts moving his hips into hers. She gasps and clings to him. It’s a moment of pure, sweaty abandon that he can tell she’s forgotten her question by the time he pulls back to answer it:

“Because the desire to ruin you has nothing to do with the spores and is purely my own.”

“Oh,” she tugs at the neck of his tunic, trying to climb herself closer to his cock with her flexing thighs. “How long does it last?”

“Again —my own impulses—forever. But the plant will keep us here a long time.”

It’s a promise that seems to please her. He can feel it in the way it wets his cock on the next thrust. 

“This will not be over soon,” he adds after a moment, his hair falling in his face as he bows his chest to help her strip his outer layer. 

Her eyes flicker with wicked delight when she sees his bare skin. From him it was more of an apology for his own performance. This would not last long. But there would be more. Possibly hours of it until it passed through their system.

She finds a freckle on his shoulder and kisses it. Then applies teeth. Then kisses again. It’s the little, focused treatment of his skin that gets him. His core muscles throb as he keeps working his organ in and out of her sex. 

Her body spasms when he takes up her hips against his own to thrust faster and more efficiently. Clearly it’s some angle, some mechanics, that he can’t be mindful enough to remember after this but does it ever make him go harder against the spot until she’s whimpering.

It takes him a moment to sense that she’s cum: it’s light and it’s all in her sounds and the way she clenches on him. Her cunt soaks his thighs. It’s not a feeling that ends her but what is left in the moment is certainly his.

Ice shoots up his spine. His whole body folds over into hers. He needs to be as close as possible, her hands in her hair holding him as—

She completely undoes him. 

His own hot cum floods inside her. It’s like her snug cunt hands it back to him, sliding it along his sensitive length, making him hiss at the feeling that only she gave him. Cradling the sex of it all together in one safe place now that it’s over more than it had when it had begun. 

The lust still prickles his skin for more, but his body is also exhausted. He lays down for a moment, hoping she can stand it, because the cycle will continue again in moments.

What’s left of him in this moment will remain hers forever. 

He bows over her chest and presses kisses to her nipples. One after the other. And again. And again. 

Her stomach quivers under his hands. It’s only muscle. Longing coiling up again to be sated by his body. But there’s a trick in his imagination.

He lifts his head.

Her breath returns to his face in a cleansing wash over his skin. He stares up at her.

“Do you think this coupling was...fertile?”

“A baby?” Rey says faintly, “oh—”

She shivers beneath him for a moment. This runs his cock back and forth against her quivering sex. With a pained groan he lowers his mouth to her breast and desperately latches. 

“Ohh, hmm—I can take a shot, back at base, I suppose” she sighs and shakes beneath him. This wasn’t freeing itself from their systems anytime soon, “but a _baby…”_

They’re agreeing without speaking. At least their bodies are. His cock notches against her hole and her little pussy squeezes on him. 

“Mmm, a baby,” she pulls him closer, so tight his whole length is trapped in her cunt, her legs not letting him slip free an inch. _“Oh,_ do you want one?”

She says it like she offers. It’s madness. But it’s so good.

He shudders all the way down to his toes and just stares at her. 

“Yes.”

_He wants. He wants. He wants._

However unnatural this feeling is, under the influence of the pollen, everything he wants had just been lurking inside him all along. If for a moment he could trust that what she wanted here was what she always wanted as well—maybe he could be happy. 

Rey laughs so lightly under his eyes.

“I never pictured you as a father.”

It riles him, the muscles of his back coiling up and he rocks low onto his knees, dragging her with him. He resents such a casual admission from her. He can be _paternal._

Rey combs her fingers in his sweaty hair. 

“I pictured you as an enemy. And a lover.”

This stills him to docility for a moment. Holding back the rage that is unfurling in his chest.

“But the father to my babies...I’d like you for that.”

His eyes are wide open, body hunching over her and fucking her so hard he think he might hurt her. Rey moans and bounces along his punishing thrusts. She keens as if she likes it. 

“So solid and strong.”

That couldn’t be it. He glares up at her as he changes his stance on the ground, pulled back low on his knees to plunge slow and deep inside her. She shivers and hiccups at the change, the arms around his body going limp and falling back to the ground. Defenseless. Vulnerable. Just _taking._

He can be nurturing too.

He rolls onto his back with her astride him. 

“Big, too,” she teases once the shock of her new position wears off. She winks down at him and rolls her hips. She rides him with this tranquil efficiency. Work that is so steady she can do it with her eyes closed. Focused. Calm. Her hands on his chest and her hips making polite little hitches around his cock. “You’ll protect us.”

He wants her wild again. Hearing her use the word _us_ like it has meaning already is enough to unravel him again. 

His boots dig into the soil and he bounces her until she chokes on her teasing words. 

“I’ll _love_ you,” he threatens, having lost the last grasp of himself with this conversation, “what do you say to that?”

Rey digs her nails into his chest.

“When the baby can’t sleep, you’ll lay with us all in the bed and hold our child for me when I’m too tired?”

He glares up at her like she’s challenging him. She is. 

“Yes. Of course.”

She smirks and tenses her muscles around him. He’s already cum inside before. But this time she’s going to get him to do it while really thinking about what it means.

“You’ll kiss all the scrapes and scratches when our baby grows up?”

He nods.

_Stop making me want this. I'll love it too much._

_Stop making me want it more than I already did. It was killing me enough then._

“Will you still want me,” she lets out a little whimper at a rough bounce, her clutches on her own control seeming to evade her grasp, “when I’m angry? When I’m sad, _when I need you so much—?”_

His body fills her again with a hot rush of cum. She cries out and falls against him, chin on his shoulder, and curls up tight as he twists and wriggles beneath her, still inside, to bring on her orgasm. She writhes her own body flush against his and within moments the stimulation on her clit has her gasping, then un-spiraling. 

These have slipped so light and easy from her body. No tension. Just clarity and peace and she shivers against him like she feels safe with him. 

He once wanted to torture her with her own pleasure. Tie her up and take hours feeding on it until he ever fed her his cock. To make her scream for him before he would.

But this is Rey. And sometimes all he wants for her is for her to not have to fight anymore. The exhaustion in her last confession breaks him open. If she joined him, she wouldn’t have to fight so hard.

It’s not so much a question of if his cock is ready to keep going but if his heart and lungs are. He’s got this strange pollen to thank for that. 

Rey pins his hands down to the earth. 

He’s done something horrible in allowing this to go so far but what he can do now is allow it to be what she wants.

Hours pass in this nest. 

The grasses and flowers pat down under their bodies so there is a circle that contains what happened here imprinted for any passing naturalist to know exactly what occurred. 

Rey curses him, Rey praises him. Rey needs him to do something for her and Rey needs him, just him, and both of these things are so huge and overwhelming they are both robbed of speech for long stretches of their fucking. She is so full of his cum that it spills out of her and coats both of their skin whenever he moves. 

Eventually it reaches a point that the pollen in the air is no different than the air in their lungs and the oxygen in their blood. And at that point everything slows. 

Rey is on her front, her ass presented to him, and he moves inside her cunt like he’s looking for himself where he lost it hours ago. They arch into each other and mumble and everything is slow. And calm. 

“What happened here was strange.”

_“But it felt so real,”_ she replies almost with a laugh. He strokes her bare spine above the belt they’d never managed to remove. It had made leverage for a few positions much easier. He might require the accessory from her in the future—

The impossible future.

He wants to bask in her satisfaction forever. 

He feels like himself again when he says it:

“Let me stay,” he pleads, _“please let me stay inside you.”_

Sense comes to her before it comes to him. She flickers between the question pleasing her and horrifying her. It oscillates in and out of her control. He understands in that moment how wonderful it would be if they were both out of control. Facing this together. Free to let it destroy them.

“Ben,” she touches his face with careful hands. He whines and leans into her touch. “I can’t.”

Her hand slides between her legs to guide him out. They both hiss at her touch on sore and raw flesh. She falls forward while he holds himself as a shelter above her.

“There’s a war going on. I have to make sacrifices.”

“You’d sacrifice your happiness? You know what we have together.”

She looks at him sadly, crawling naked through the brush to gather up her clothes. 

“You know what it would take from you to make me happy,” she says quietly, “and you won’t do it.”

It guts him. That he could make her happy. 

She just didn’t think he would.

Her pants go from bunched her ankles to their rightful place clothing her ass. He still sees her cunt, flushed and red and soaked with his cum, before it covers it all up.

He’s not sure he can go back to pretending this never happens. Despite the culprit this time being so out of body, studying hard on the parts of a plant so he could entirely cast blame on salverform shape.

Usually he can’t bear to watch her go. He lets the bond close with his own sleep. That shuts a door he’s too weak to lock away from her. He can blame sleep. He can blame a break in concentration. 

He can only blame himself if she gets up and leaves. 

If he lifts his eyes from her for a moment he’ll have damned this moment to its end.

“Rey,” he is only able to speak to her back. “But what if...we were successful?”

“Successful?” she murmurs, almost entirely to herself. “I—”

There’s a few heavy breaths from both of them before either can speak.

She swallows and shakes her head. He lets a deep breath go. 

_It’s alright. She’s still the enemy. It was just a biological response._

She leans forward and kisses his lips gently. 

This is her choice. She could run if she wished, or kill him. She had full faculties to do so. She looks like she half expects to fight because they both know The Supreme Leader will be returning without his conquest yet again. 

The excuses for this one will perhaps feel the most embarrassing. 

But she kisses him before she leaves him: and that’s all it takes for what she can’t believe he’d do to become the only thing that makes sense to him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to [Jen](https://twitter.com/StarWarshipper) for looking this over for me! 
> 
> I have another idea for an unrelated one-shot that will probably be set in the SWU where married Supreme Leader brings home flowers for his wife after a long trip away and they trigger a reaction in bed that night. Any interest?


End file.
